


Truth or Drink

by Miss_K



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, First Meetings, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-14 03:51:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_K/pseuds/Miss_K
Summary: A blind date with a twist. A fun and flirty first meeting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I've seriously been slacking on the PRNT front but this idea popped into my head the other day after watching an episode of _Truth or Drink_ on the _Cut_ YouTube channel and has not stopped bugging me since then. Specifically, the episode involved two people on a blind date. What makes these blind dates often hilarious and sometimes awkward (in a funny way, though) is that they ask each other personal questions which range from tame like "what's your number one deal breaker?" to somewhat risqué like "where is the weirdest place you've had sex?" which they can either answer or take a drink. Soooooo...I thought it would be a fun take on Carol and Therese meeting each other for the first time if they were to go on a _Truth or Drink_ -style blind date.
> 
> I don't really know if this is necessary, nor do I know how to write disclaimers or whatever those I-claim-no-ownership spiels are called, but I thought it best that I disclose that I've modelled and written this as if it were one of Cut's _Truth or Drink_ blind dates. As such, I've used questions that are word-for-word the same as those featured in their videos. I've taken inspiration from them but do not in any way claim that the featured questions nor premise are my creation. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a short one-shot but it seems as if I'm incapable of writing anything under 4000 words. Therefore, I'm splitting this into reasonably sized chapters that I'll post close together. 
> 
> Lastly, if you haven't seen the _Truth or Drink_ series, you can check it out [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJic7bfGlo3qgrRJsCm5RbtOxZ8Q5WSr_).

_Why on Earth did I agree to do this?_ Therese thought, sitting with her shoulders tensed and hands clasped tightly in her lap, the nail of her thumb digging under the other as her nervousness about her impending date began to spill over. 

Over lunch a few days before, a smooth-talking Dannie had convinced her to do an episode of _Truth or Drink_ for _Cut_ , where participants -singletons on a blind date in Therese’s case- ask each other a series of personal questions which they can choose to either answer honestly or take a shot of alcohol. Being the diehard romantic he was, he told her that were she to take a chance and go on the blind date, that she could meet someone great, maybe even strike it lucky and meet The One. The dreamy lustre that had covered his eyes then vanished when he gleefully declared that it would be a “fucking awesome 21st century love story” she could tell the grandkids about. Given how wholly unrealistic and absurd such a scenario sounded, Therese merely laughed.

Undeterred, Dannie redoubled his efforts by reminding her that after a spate of sometimes awkward and often underwhelming dates, it wouldn't be a bad idea for her to switch things up a bit. Perhaps sensing her ambivalence about such an arrangement, he reassured her that if she _didn't_ click with her date, she would merely have to endure a few drinks - _free_ drinks he stressed- with someone she was under no obligation to see ever again. 

Seeing Dannie’s face brim with hopeful expectation in that moment, and with no compelling enough cons to call on in opposition, she agreed. And that's why she's currently waiting in a nondescript studio where the date's to take place, wearing an airline-grade sleeping mask that scratched her cheeks and dug into her ears, not having the foggiest idea as to what or whom to expect, nor just what she was about to get herself into.

Now that she was essentially sans sight, she was relying on her other senses to keep her in the loop of the goings-on of the studio. With the exception of the distant chatter of Dannie and his gaffer boyfriend,voices ricocheted all around her, the muddled murmur above which only the _click, rasp_ , and _scrape_ of recording equipment being set up rose. The faint waft of pepperoni pizza and Chinese takeout from a lunch just had lingered in the air but other than that, her surroundings were devoid of stimuli worthy of attention, as barren a setting as someone desperately in need of a distraction could fear for.

Thankfully, she was only made to suffer through a few moments of awkward solitude before the sound of footsteps nearby began to grow louder, the footfall of one pair more a dull shuffle of sneakers, the other the almost hesitant clack of heels she hadn't yet heard. That could only mean one thing. _Oh, God. She's here._ With that, her heart picked up its beat until it assumed a rolling thump, insistent and at risk of running away from her if she didn't rein it in. _Okay, stay calm. It's just a date. Act normal...No! Act cool. Act cool_.

“Let's get you seated. Okay, blind-daters, we have just a few more checks to run through before we can start. It should only take another minute or two, five tops. In the meantime, sit tight and try not to find too much out about each other. Oh, and hold off on doing introductions until we give you the go-ahead, okay?” announced the same assistant from earlier before they dashed off once more, this time leaving Therese alone with her mystery date.

The table rocked as Therese’s date slid into the folding chair across from her, doing so in what sounded like much the same ginger manner she herself had. Unlike before, though, there now _were_ a pair of shins at risk of being kicked by a blindfold-wearing someone scooting closer.

“Oh, shit. I'm so sorry about that. I just...I _literally_ didn't see you there,” her date apologised with a strained laugh.

Under any other circumstances, Therese would have laughed at and appreciated her date's witticism, but in this moment, her interest piqued because of one thing only: the woman's voice. It was low and feminine, easy and unhurried, equally gravelly as it was velvety, capable of caressing, cradling, and releasing each word delicately and with grace. In just a few words, the power of the woman's sonorous voice was revealed, because without realising it, Therese had fallen into a stunned silence, utterly captivated by the pleasure the mere sound of it gave her.

When Therese finally made her way back to the present, she cleared her throat before responding, “That's all right...I probably would've done the same thing if you'd gotten here before me.”

“Yes, well, we're kind of asking for it by wearing these ridiculous blindfolds, aren't we?” the woman asked flippantly, her smooth-edged voice now slightly rough with annoyance. Her fingers briefly drummed a rapid beat on the table before coming to an abrupt end. 

“I know I probably shouldn't be asking you this, but...are you nervous about doing this? Because if I'm being honest, I...kind of am.” When she spoke that time around, her voice was closer, a hushed whisper meant for Therese only; her unexpected lean in bringing with it an ephemeral but tantalising whiff of her perfume that enhanced the intimacy of the interaction.

Once more, Therese’s mind wandered away from her, becoming lost in ponderings about the lengths to which she would go to to catch the merest trace of the woman's fragrance. With a shake of her head, she brought her wayward musings to a close. “This may sound messed up but...I'm glad I'm not the only one who's nervous about this.”

“That is kind of fucked up,” the woman concurred before her rich chuckle added a stupefying touch of vividity to the dullness of their surroundings. “If that's the case, though, I think we should have a drink as soon as we take these awful things off. Just to calm our nerves. Take the edge off, you know? What do you say?”

“I'll need at least two to do that,” Therese deadpanned honestly, succeeding in making the woman laugh once more, an unexpected but delightful surprise she couldn't help but smile at. 

“We've apparently got a fair amount of alcohol to play with so we might as well take advantage of it.”

Therese’s ensuing chuckle was cut short by a sudden burst of clapping that brought with it the cessation of all other activities in the studio. 

“Okay, everyone, we're just about ready to start. First off, I'd again like to thank our two ladies here for agreeing to this blind date as part of the latest season of _Truth or Drink_. Myself and everyone else here hope you'll have a killer time today because that's what we're all about here at _Cut_ ,” announced a voice Therese placed as Fernando, the director of the episode she'd met upon her arrival at the studio.

“Now...both of you already know how the game works. It's so simple that any idiot can play it. That's not to say that you're idiots, rather that dumbasses like us can play it without hassle.” His crack garnered a few snickers from those nearby but it was the “ _who you calling ‘dumbass’, dumbass?_ ” asked by a cheeky-someone which elicited a generous round of laughs.

“Okay, okay. Enough of that,” Fernando chided playfully. “Moving on...This ridiculous game is a great way for you to get to know each other. By the end of it you may be, at best, friends, followers on social media, acquaintances, people who just nod at each other in the supermarket, or who avoid each other at all costs. Whatever happens after this is entirely up to you two. But if we've played our matchmaking cards right and everything goes well, you may walk out of here as more than just friends…” 

As if such a suggestive remark didn't cause Therese enough discomfort, Fernando paused for effect, intensifying her awkwardness to near unbearable levels. “Now, ladies, even though this is being filmed, just ignore the cameras and all the other recording equipment, okay? Forget that all that shit and the rest of us are here with you. I may butt in every now and then but I try to not interfere too much. No one likes a third wheel, right? So imagine it's just the two of you on a weird first date, okay?”

He quickly whispered something to someone before addressing them once more, “Well, that's all that really needs to be said. So if there aren't any further questions and you're both ready, we can start...No questions, then? Great, we'll go on ‘one’. Three...two...one...Why don't you start by introducing yourselves.”

“Uh. Hi, I'm Therese.”

“I'm Carol.”

“Why are you both here today?” Fernando prompted, stopping Therese from fixating on just how aptly ‘Carol’ seemed to fit the description of the woman she had in mind.

“I just thought I'd try something new,” Therese managed to answer, shrugging out of habit.

“I'm here t-”

“To hopefully get laid!” crowed a woman far away to Therese’s right, before she, along with everyone else in the studio, descended into raucous laughter.

“ _Abby!_ ” gasped Carol. “Jesus _Christ!_ Why?! Why would you say something like that?!” 

Even though she wasn't able to see the look on Carol’s face, Therese knew the woman's cheeks would be flooded with colour, reddened with absolute mortification and mounting anger. By the tone of her voice, though, she sounded like she was ready to pay no heed to the consequences and commit murder, whoever this Abby was being her prime target.

“Is there any way she can leave? Can you call security, Fernando? Because I can guarantee you right now, she will _not_ keep quiet. She'll just go on and on and on. Doing a live commentary throughout even though no one asked her to,” Carol implored jokingly once the cackles and hoots had subsided, any hint of irritation from moments earlier having entirely seeped from her voice by now.

With that, Fernando could be heard ushering Abby over to the corner of the studio for a chat, their brief conversation one of unintelligible whispers. “Carol, I'm gonna be straight with you. I'm not super keen on kicking Kristen AKA my boss’ girlfriend out as is because I'll totally get my ass chewed out for it. But also, Abby _has_ promised me that she'll behave. So I'm gonna give her the benefit of the doubt and allow her to stay. You okay with that?” he asked, sounding much like a parent trying to negotiate a truce between two warring teenagers.

“I suppose I'll have to be, won't I? You should know, though, that if you believe she'll behave, you'll believe anything because that is absolute bullshit. But congrats, Abigail. You've once again managed to talk your way out of being physically removed from some place because of your poor behaviour,” Carol satirically retorted.

Having done her best to keep her sniggering quiet and under control, Therese finally cracked as she began to guffaw, Carol herself joining in by chortling in rapturous amusement.

“God, what you must think of me right now, Therese. Nothing good, I assume,” Carol said ruefully but lightly once they'd both calmed some. 

Before Therese could chance at responding, Fernando cut in, “Now that that's settled, let's get back to it. I was gonna ask a few more questions but I'd much rather put you both out of your misery instead so that things can _really_ get going here. Alright, go ahead and take your blindfolds off.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not replying to comments on the previous chapter. I have seen them -of course, thank you for leaving them- and I shall get around to them tomorrow. 
> 
> Okay, back to the date...

As instructed, Therese removed her blindfold, holding her breath as she did so, not hesitating in taking the chance to slide the last piece of the Carol puzzle into place. Her wait to complete what already was an alluring picture was made that little bit longer upon opening her eyes to the harshly lit studio, though, catching only a glint of blonde at the centre of her line of sight before she was forced to shut them.

“Hi there. Ah! Jesus, it's so bright in here.”

The sound of Carol’s voice light yet laden with mirth made it impossible for Therese to keep her eyes closed any longer. “Hi. Wow!” Therese flushed when the word that had flung itself to the forefront of her mind slipped out in a rush of mistimed candour, any semblance of normality deserting her upon seeing her date. She could hardly be blamed for such a reaction. Carol was _that_ stunning. 

Loose blonde waves cropped just below the jaw framed a face which master painters and sculptors alike would sacrifice their artistry to create. Although she was gifted with a divine combination of high, prominent cheekbones, mesmerising slate blue eyes, an elegant nose, and ample lips, it was the sublime canvas that was Carol’s creamy, luminous skin which made her features truly shine. Add to this all a graceful posture, her charismatic personality, and a cool confidence she seemed to naturally exude, and she became a woman that couldn't be further out of Therese’s league. 

Coming out of her stupor of wonder, Therese asked, “Did I just say ‘wow’ out loud?” She looked hopefully to Fernando for reassurance, only for an irrepressible belly laugh to escape from him, crushing her spirit in one fell swoop. Embarrassed and now unable to face Carol, she dropped her chin to her chest. “Greeeeaaaaaat start,” she mumbled to herself.

“That really wasn't that bad, Therese.”

Lifting her head a touch, Therese cast a sceptical eye at Carol. “Really?”

“Absolutely. It wasn't as bad as the whole ‘wanting to get laid’ fiasco, now was it?” Carol asked simply, easing herself back in her seat.

For some reason, be it that Carol was spot-on in her assessment of their predicaments or the fact that she was willing to leverage her own embarrassment as a means of easing Therese’s, it appeared as if there was little else the younger woman could do but smile. “I suppose not.”

“Exactly. Now...Let's move on from all that by having that drink we spoke about,” Carol continued brightly as she dragged two shot glasses towards her. “What's your poison?”

“Hmmm...whiskey sounds good.” Shifting her gaze away from the curious smile now gracing Carol’s perfectly rouged lips, Therese sneaked a surreptitious look at the layered gold necklaces that delved deep into the older woman's cleavage, before focusing on the hands measuring out their drinks. Feminine and strong, they moved with an economy of motion, controlled and sure of their every move, and precise in the execution of each.

“Cheers,” they toasted, not veering from tradition by offering up their glasses to one another to clink.

A wave of warmth washed over Therese as she sank her drink, beginning as a swell that rolled through her chest, then surged up her neck, and finally pooled in her cheeks. It had nothing to do with the burn of the whiskey, though, and everything to do with the eye contact she'd maintained with Carol as they downed their shots. 

“Another?” Carol asked, pulling Therese from her thoughts before she could stray too far. 

“Uhhhh...Yeah, maybe one more.” A little extra whiskey to bolster her confidence would hardly go amiss for Therese. It may even embolden her to flirt with Carol despite how futile an endeavour it would be -at least that's what she thought. So with that, she tossed the second shot back.

“Ready?” Carol asked with a lift of a brow, hand poised over the stack of question cards. “Okay...Which one of us do you think is more attractive?”

Not needing any time to think about it, Therese blurted out, “Definitely you.” Despite not yet having come into effect, just knowing that the alcohol was in her system and on its way to working its magic was enough to pacify her nervousness, strip away her hesitancy, and loosen her tongue.

“Really? I'd say you're more attractive.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Carol answered with equal insistence.

With that, Therese squared off against Carol in a staring contest, her look of sceptical disbelief being met evenly by one of utmost calm. 

Carol was the first to break the deadlock by confidently asserting, “You can look at me like that all you want but it won't change my mind. That's not the whiskey talking either, if you think that has anything to do with my thinking you're more attractive.”

Fighting the amusement now twitching at the corners of her lips, Therese appealed to Fernando instead, “Back me up here, man.”

“I don't know, Therese. You're both like really, really ridiculously good-looking,” he answered, making Therese crack up at his terrible impression of Derek Zoolander. “I think you'll just have to agree to disagree on that one.”

Turning to Carol, Therese declared, “I'm cool with that.”

“So am I. You should know that you're wrong, though. Okay. Your turn,” Carol said with a grin as wide as a Cheshire cat's, glossing over her cheeky jest by quickly moving things along.

Shaking her head good-humouredly, Therese reached for the next card. Her eyes flicked to one phrase in particular and immediately bulged. “Jesus! How the fuck is this the second question?!” she asked incredulously.

“What is it?” 

Therese looked across at Carol, knowing full well that what she was about to say would wipe the quizzical expression from the older woman's face. “I can't believe I have to ask you this. Wow. Um,” she paused to clear her throat and moisten her lips before diving in, “How would you rate your oral sex skills out of ten?” 

Having shot upward in surprise at the question's asking, Carol's brows all but disappeared into her hairline, her jaw moving in the opposite direction by dropping slightly. The silence that followed was short, broken by a loud snort that snapped her out of her momentary daze and drew her attention to the back of the studio. Narrowing her eyes upon finding its source, her slack jaw shifted sideways while her tongue pushed against the inside of her cheek, her look one of displeasure were it not for the slight upturn of her lips.

“We can both take a shot because that question is just...It sucks,” Therese offered, awkwardly scrunching her nose up as she took the whiskey in hand.

“No!” Carol hastily responded, seizing the bottle before Therese could top up their glasses. In doing so, though, she'd wrapped her hand around Therese’s, tightly and just firmly enough to make the younger woman yield to her. “That'll be three shots within the first _two_ questions, then. No, I really think we need to pace ourselves a little bit because at the rate we're going, we'll both be drunk before we even reach halfway.”

Therese heard Carol’s elaboration clearly enough but failed to understand just what had been said, the unexpected contact of their hands and strangely titillating display of dominance by the older woman having hindered her ability to process information. “So…” she started dumbly.

Slightly smirking, Carol replied, “So…I'll take the hit on this question and answer it.” She finally pulled her hand away as she went to adjust her shirt, pinching the shoulders of her lightweight, perfectly oversized, ivory button-up so that when it fell back into place, it hung a little lower. So, whether deliberate or not, a teasing hint of her black lace bralette suddenly came into view.

“How do I rate my oral sex skills?” Carol repeated aloud, looking above Therese’s head as she deliberated. “I'd give myself a solid seven-and-a-half out of ten.”

“Oh, yeah?” Therese asked, willing her gaze to not venture south.

“Yes, I like to set the bar for myself relatively low so that I far exceed expectations later on.”

The seriousness of Carol's tone made her explanation all the more comical to Therese, setting the younger woman off with a giggle that then burgeoned into all-out hysterics. Therese eventually ended up hunched over the table, eyes threatening to water over and sides aching from her convulsive laughter. But she wasn't alone in doing so, Carol, too, having been overcome by the hilarity of the moment, her poise faltering as she rested her forearms atop the table for support.

Instead of becoming distracted by their sudden closeness, Therese found herself fixating on something else. Her position now afforded her an intimate view of the delicate lines fanning out from the corners of Carol’s eyes, chronicles of all the laughter in her life. Therese marvelled at how mirth deepened them, casting shadows that enriched the character of the older woman's face and somehow enhanced her beauty further. Up close like that, Carol was even more of a sight to behold.

After coming down from her high, Therese acknowledged, “That's actually pretty ingenious.”

Rounding off with a puff of a laugh, Carol proceeded to tip her head back and lightly shake her tresses into place. “It is, isn't it? See, I'm not just a pretty face,” she said, batting her lashes and grinning coquettishly for effect. “Okay, next question…Oh, this should be good...Can you show me your Tinder/Grindr/Bumble profile?”

“This is going to sound like the most convenient of excuses but I actually deleted Tinder a couple of weeks back,” Therese sheepishly explained. “This may be a kinda lame compromise but...I _do_ have a Goodreads account that you can check out.”

Carol’s expression changed drastically upon hearing Therese’s offer, from mildly suspicious to one where her excitement was plain to see. “That's even better!”

Grinning, Therese fished out her phone and quickly logged onto her account. “Here.”

“Wait,” Carol said, dropping her outstretched hand to the table as she hesitated unexpectedly. “That actually may not be a good idea.”

“What? Why not?”

“Well, I'll find it extremely difficult to continue our date if I find out you like any of those _Fifty Shades_ books.”

“Oh…” Therese shrank in her seat, shoulders and head bowing in disappointment, acting as if she hadn't caught onto the feigned seriousness of Carol's explanation. Only once she saw worry register on the older woman's face did she continue, “Nah, just fucking with you.”

“Therese!” Carol playfully swatted a grinning Therese on her arm for her tease, her once contained smile of relief now broad and dazzling. “Okay, let's see what we've got here.”

Therese could only watch on as Carol thumbed through her profile, the peculiar anxiety suddenly afflicting her manifesting itself in the fidget of her hands, the repeated slide and twist of her ring up and around her middle finger. To her, one's literary interests were a confessional portrait of self, of their likes and dislikes, aspirations and history, fascinations and fears that may be held in equal regard; all depicted vividly or as echoes of the truth in their favourite characters and stories. So to show Carol something like this was to show a part of herself, this being an act of intimacy she hadn't hesitated in kindling.

Aside from the occasional hum and mumble of an author's name or a book title, Carol was quiet, focused as she continued her scroll through. That was until she flicked her eyes up, fixing her now inquisitive gaze on Therese. “You like _Pilgrim_ by Timothy Findley?”

“Yeah. It's one of the best books I've ever read. In my opinion, it's also one of the most underrated books,” Therese replied honestly.

Carol handed Therese her phone back without a word as she straightened up in her seat, looking down at the younger woman once more. Not unlike moments before, her eyes were focused keenly on Therese, her look one that suggested that the younger woman had risen in her estimation, perhaps elevating her to a position of interest. With a smile that swept through her features, she said, “I couldn't agree more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kids. Cheers, K :)


	3. Chapter 3

Before Therese could ask the next question, Carol posed one of her own, “If you don't mind my asking, why did you delete your Tinder?”

“Ummm...I was finding the dates I was going on kinda unfulfilling and... anticlimactic. God, that's a terrible way of putting. But yeah. I just wasn't quite getting what I wanted out of them. Not that I really knew what I wanted. I...It just wasn't that. They were okay but...I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense.” Perturbed into ineptitude by Carol’s reaction to her previous answer, Therese began to fumble her words, exacerbating her existing struggle to suitably describe her post-date emptiness.

“Don't apologise. And I _do_ know what you mean.” Carol’s expression transformed then to one of reassurance and understanding. Although truly genuine in appearance, its stay was only temporary because mischief returned to glint in her eyes and twist her lips once more. “So _that's_ really why you decided to do this. Because you wanted to meet someone the more traditional way.”

Like so many times already that afternoon, Therese found herself laughing gleefully, easily restoring that sense of comfort that imbued her interactions with Carol. “Yes, because nothing says ‘traditional’ quite like a drunken blind date.” 

“We're not drunk...At least not yet,” Carol said, the wiggled dance of her brows making the younger woman giggle like a silly child.

“Shall we move on?”

“Please.”

Matching Carol grin for grin, Therese read aloud, “Have you ever been in love before? If so, why didn't it work out?”

Perhaps because she hadn't anticipated the question to be quite so different to her first, Carol was somewhat taken aback by its asking. Recovery was swift, though, with the same confidence she'd exhibited before coming through when she answered, “I've been in love twice before. The first time was with my high school sweetheart. We tried to make things work when we went away to colleges that were across the country from each other but the distance put too much strain on our relationship. So unfortunately things didn't pan out there.”

“And then, the second time I was in love was with my ex-husband. Our marriage didn't work out for many reasons. There wasn't enough communication and -I think- willingness to compromise on both our parts. We also had a few issues with jealousy, um...complacency, and eventually trust. And once the trust between us was completely gone, that was that,” she concluded with a shrug of resignation, a gesture she seemed to make because it was customary more than anything else to do so. Because by the evenness of her tone and calm steadiness of her gaze, there was no bitterness or disappointment to be had, only acceptance of what'd already happened.

Therese nodded slowly, digesting what she'd just learnt about Carol, recognising where the lines of their loves past were in parallel and where they diverged. One difference in particular stuck out and begged for further enquiry. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Is it, ‘have I always been attracted to woman’, ‘have I ever been with a woman’, or something of the kind?” 

Despite herself and the blush that had proliferated her cheeks, Therese started snickering, broadening the knowing smile affixed to Carol’s face until it was wide and smug. “I'm guessing you've been asked those before,” the younger woman said with not a hint of her timidity from just a moment ago. 

“Just a few times. And by ‘a few’, I mean about a thousand,” Carol elaborated good-naturedly. “To answer the question you _didn't_ yet ask, I've always been attracted to women and have been with women both before and after my marriage.”

“Well, all right, then.” More than satisfied with Carol’s explanation, Therese beamed her thanks.

Taking that to be the cue to proceed, Carol flipped the next card over. “What music do you bang to?” With brows askew with puzzlement, she continued to look the question over. “I can't believe ‘bang’ is something people still say,” she said, addressing the remark to no one in particular as she wryly shook her head.

“I know. Just call it ‘sex’ for fuck's sake.”

Chuckling lowly at what was an offhanded curse by Therese, Carol adorably screwed her eyes up and scrunched her nose. “I couldn't have put it better myself!” she exclaimed, throwing the card down onto the pile of discards with a flourish. “So, Therese...What music do you have sex to, then?”

“Well, to be honest, I don't exactly go out of my way to have music playing when I have sex. If something _is_ playing, it's usually because it was on in the first place -you know?”

“Okay, but when you put music on _to_ have sex, what do you play?”

“Uhhhh. Usually Miguel, Frank Ocean, maybe The Weeknd, and -and this may sound kinda weird but- Led Zeppelin.”

With her eyes wide, head thrust forward, and hands splayed out on the table as if to brace herself, Carol’s response was nothing short of enthralled. “Are you kidding? Robert Plant's voice is _divine_.”

The way Carol drawled out ‘divine’ in that luscious tone of hers left Therese close to being overcome by a shiver of arousal. Despite knowing how dangerous it was for her to have the conversation continue in this vein, she couldn't stop herself from going on, “There's something about the combination of his voice and the guitar in _I Can't Quit You Baby_ in particular that always gets me.”

“Jesus, that guitar is pure ecstasy. And that howl he does at the beginning of the song is just…” Trailing off, Carol rolled her shoulders, appearing to suppress a shudder that stopped her from finishing what she was saying. With a few wayward locks having fallen across her forehead when she lolled her head to the side, Carol looked Therese squarely in the eye as she asked, “Do you know what I mean?”

 _Oh, fuck me_. Doing her utmost to not squirm in her seat, Therese resorted to a white-knuckled grip on her thigh to exorcise her excited energy. It unfortunately -or fortunately, depending on which way one looked at it- had the opposite effect on her because she actually _enjoyed_ the dull pain it caused, her inner masochist coming out in her current state of over-stimulation. _Get a fucking grip, would you?_

“I do,” she finally answered, forcing the words out through the dry thickness of her throat. Reaching for fruit juice chaser in the most unaffected manner she could muster, she took a deep, appreciative gulp.

“Everything all right?”

Focusing on Carol once more, Therese saw how the older woman eyes flicked up and down, up and down, up and down her body; looking like she was pleased by the success of her ploy to toy. _Oh, she wants to play, does she? We can play._ Putting her game face on, Therese smiled back at a wickedly smirking Carol before composedly replying, “Yeah, I was just a bit parched.” 

Holding eye contact for a second or two longer, Carol then tapped the top of the next card with her long index and middle fingers. “I believe it's your turn.”

“Sit on my lap and stare into my eyes intimately for one minute or take a shot.” Therese repeated the card to herself twice more, reading as slow as possible without looking like a complete simpleton who couldn't understand a straightforward instruction. When she _did_ look up, she met with Carol’s twinkling gaze. 

“I'll do it but only if you're okay with it,” the older woman said, laying down the challenge with a cock of a brow, thus leaving it to Therese to either say ‘fuck it’ and rise to the occasion or chicken out. 

Pushing her chair out from under the table with force, Therese gave her answer. 

Unfortunately, her bravado was short-lived, capitulating spectacularly when Carol rose from her seat. It was also at that exact moment that Therese seemed to lose all politeness and properness because she could only stare transfixedly at Carol’s long, slender legs sheathed in fitted charcoal jeans that nipped in at her slim waist as the older woman rounded the table with an effortless stride.

Steadying herself by holding onto Therese’s shoulder, Carol settled across the younger woman's lap, crossing her legs over at the knee to assume her usual poise. “Are you comfortable?” When no answer was forthcoming from Therese, Carol ventured once more, “Therese? Are you all right like this?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Really.” That was the truth but not the whole truth because Therese’s brain _had_ required a few seconds to reboot after it was short-circuited by the sensory overload that was Carol. It was the firmness of the older woman's grip, the subtly sweet floral notes and citrusy undertones of her perfume, the swell and dip of her breas-

“Do you usually hold your hands out like that?” Carol cut into Therese’s musings, referring to the way the younger woman's hands hovered in mid-air, suspended a good few inches away from her any part of her body.

“Uhhh. Noooo.”

“Well…” Carol prompted, the corners of lips now curled into what was a hint of a smile.

Taking the hint, Therese carefully placed one hand on the small of Carol’s back and the other just above her knee. Before she could congratulate herself on the boldness of her powerplay, Carol immediately responded with one of her own when she twisted further around so they now faced one another and hooked her arms over Therese’s shoulder. To seal the victory in their battle to out-do the other, the older woman locked them in place by lacing her hands together behind Therese’s neck.

With the first criteria of the task met and then some, all that was now left for them to do was to remain locked in eye contact for longer than ever before. Therese knew she'd have to have her wits about her throughout because being in such close quarters with Carol meant she was liable to saying or doing something that would put her even further behind the eight ball. So for the sake of remaining in the game, nor embarrassing herself any more than she already had, she was determined to remain cool, calm, and collected for the next minute.

“I have to say, this is the earliest I've found myself in this position on a first date,” Carol softly admitted a matter of seconds in.

Stifling a snort-cum-snigger, Therese’s resolve was already floundering. “Me too.”

“I don't think I would be in this position anyway because in my case, the roles are usually reversed.”

“Oh, so you prefer being on bottom, then?” Therese knew how the question sounded and it was _exactly_ how she intended for it to sound. _I can play, too._

An emotion flashed in Carol’s eyes then, betraying her otherwise self-possessed demeanour. Instead of becoming flustered like most would in such a situation, the older woman took it in her stride when she teased, “Wouldn't you like to know?” 

“Hey, I was talking about whether you prefer being the one being sat on or the one doing the sitting. What were you thinking about?” Therese’s cheeky riposte made Carol laugh that deep chuckle she liked so much. 

“Come on. You're supposed to be staring into each others eyes not fucking around,” Fernando interjected.

Looking much like a seasoned troublemaker being reprimanded by their principal, Carol just grinned. Therese on the other hand, pressed her lips together to stop herself from giggling, her deep-rooted obedience making her the perfect counterpoint to the older woman.

Concentrating on the task at hand proved to be a colossal effort for Therese but she took to it well enough, passing the time by taking stock of the different shades of blue and grey in Carol’s eyes. That was until there was maybe ten seconds to go, when her attention was drawn to Carol’s lips as the older woman slowly ran her tongue over them. When Therese looked up, the smirk she found in Carol’s eyes as well as on her mouth told her everything she needed to know: that she'd been caught in the act of staring at the older woman's lips. Panicked, Therese began to flail. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_

“3...2...1...That's a minute. Good job, you guys,” Fernando announced with a loud whistle that failed to shake Therese from her stunned state.

“I like your shirt,” Carol sultrily whispered close to Therese’s ear as she leaned forward, giving both of the younger woman's shoulders a squeeze before gracefully dismounting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for reading. Cheers, K :)


End file.
